


Red Tides

by caprigender



Category: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Menstruation, Trans Male Character, trans man Tom Sawyer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:59:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3902221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caprigender/pseuds/caprigender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom gets his period for the first time since joining the league.</p>
<p>Post movie climax, after leaving Mongolia, before arriving at the shores of Africa.<br/>More me exploring trans man agent tom sawyer</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had hardly been a month, Tom was certain of that. Maybe the stress of the past few weeks had been getting to him. After all, he had lost two of his closest friends, abandoned (or been abandoned by) his home and country, snuck into a secret organization of extraordinary talent, gained a father figure, taken down an international terrorist organization, and finally lost his first and only father-son relationship, all in the span of a few weeks. With all that in mind, perhaps it had indeed been a month since his last incident. Still, he couldn’t help but feel cheated as he stared in mild panic at the blood stained sheets of his bed.

Someone was going to find out and it was likely going to be one of Nemo’s men, whoever did the laundry for the Nautilus guests. He quickly stripped the sheets off the bed and began tearing them into strips. The logical part of his brain asked him what exactly he was planning to accomplish with this course of action. Even if the repurposed sheets stopped him from bleeding through his trousers, the lack of bedsheets would not go unnoticed. Maybe the league was more of a team than they used to be, but Tom didn’t want to go about arousing anyone’s suspicion.

The bundle of cloth wrapped around his pelvis was enough to staunch the bleeding. Tom looked in the mirror and grimaced. His trousers bunched up in a way that most people probably wouldn’t notice, but to him stuck out like a sore thumb. It would be so much easier to hide this bulk under a skirt, but that was an even less helpful idea.

He jumped halfway out of his skin as someone knocked on his door. “Hey there, Sawyer, wakey wakey time,” Rodney called in his playful cockney lilt, “Captain wants everyone present for breakfast time, since we’re all essentially back in one piece again.” The American rushed to the door and opened it a crack, peeking out at his invisible friend. “Ahhh, so he is awake. Care to join us, my blushing American beauty?”

Rodney Skinner was well on the road to recovery. His burns had almost entirely healed, disappearing into thin air as they did so. By now there were only a few spots of blackened pink flesh that hung in the air to show where the man’s face was. The other half of his face was painted up white and grinning. A black leather coat hung open in the air. He’d end up closing it for the meal to avoid looking at his own digestive tract, but for now he seemed happy to remind everyone just how little he was covered.

Sawyer blushed, the invisible man’s tactics were infuriatingly effective, but he was determined not to let the aggravating thief know that. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. You think I’d ever turn down a home cooked meal? It ain’t exactly like Aunt Polly’s but I sure wouldn’t want to offend whatever sap agreed to work Nemo’s kitchen.”

“Aheheh” Skinner chuckled, “my thoughts exactly. You know, Sawyer, I can tell ‘em you’ll be a while if you need a bit to clean the wank off your sheets.” Tom froze and slammed the door shut. His bed was right behind him. The invisible man had seen the lack of sheets, made some assumptions, and was cackling to himself as he continued down the hall.

Tom took a deep breath. At least the invisible man hadn’t guessed the truth. And he was incapable of keeping his mouth shut, of that Tom was certain. Maybe this was more of a convenience than a problem. The young man walked over to the mirror to smooth himself over and look more presentable. There was nothing to worry about, he reassured himself.  
Hell, he thought as he straightened out his suspenders, he was on a boat of murderers, monsters, and thieves who were able to be something of a family. If he could accept all of their flaws, why wouldn’t they accept him and all of his uniqueness?

Feeling relieved, he sighed and with a jaunty skip in his step, started towards the main dining room.


	2. Chapter 2

Wilhelmina Harker had an air of mystery about her. At first glance she looked like any middle class London suffragette, cold, collected, well dressed, but for some reason her presence would make you feel strange. There was a hint of unease when she walked into the room as quiet and stealthy as a jungle cat. Even those who knew nothing of her status as a predator could tell that they were not quite safe around her. This subtle feeling battled for dominance against the equally bizarre draw she seemed to have on anyone in the room. For some these feelings were stronger than for others. Sawyer figured he must be one of the lucky ones who sensed it like crazy. Mrs. Harker terrified and intrigued him.

At first he thought it was a crush. The uneasy feeling in his stomach coupled with the increase in his heart rate felt suspiciously like the first time he’d met the original agent Sawyer and his partner agent Finn, back when he was still going by the code name agent Thatcher. It made sense, anyways, Mrs. Harker was a breathtaking woman in her plain, practical dresses, neatly done hair, and brilliant red scarf. Her cheekbones were high and her eyes could pierce right through you. 

Even after she revealed herself as a vampire Tom didn’t quite connect his emotional discomfort to her supernatural attributes. She was just another beautiful woman, and he was a lovesick boy determined to make a gentlemanly impression. He’d even managed to charm her with his manners. Hell, she’d encouraged him to pursue his interests in her. Maybe it had been coy. Maybe she had just been humoring him. Maybe she saw him as nothing more than a young, sweet boy and had no intention in pursuing a relationship with him, but Sawyer was willing to take the attentions he could get. Besides, he figured there were many dangerous downsides to him actually ending up in a relationship with Mina Harker. He was content simply talking to her, spending afternoons in her company in the libraries of the Nautilus. He’d seen the hunger in her eyes before when she tore into countless enemy soldiers. It was a look he knew he never wanted directed at himself. It was the look of a predator who smelled blood on her prey.

He sensed her eyes on him before he saw her gaze. His training with Quatermain had been enough to hone his senses to detect the presence of a potential threat. He turned around slowly and his eyes met Mina’s. Her lips were parted to show a glimpse of the white fangs that had descended. She leaned forward, inhaling the scent of the young man in front of her. Strangely enough, she seemed just as confused about her own behavior as he was.

“Sawyer,” she hummed in a low, seductive voice used exclusively for those she hunted. Tom felt his heart catch in his chest. He was afraid of that voice. That voice could command him to slit his wrists for her and he would obey without a second thought. She cleared her throat and continued in her usual cold and detached tone that Tom now noticed was laced with hunger and exertion. How hard did she have to try every day to keep her own teammates out of her vampiric thrall? “You smell of blood. Are you hurt?”

Tom felt his heart stop for an entirely different fear. His cheeks began to burn in embarrassment. The cotton strips wrapped around his groin felt far too tight and far too loose at the same time. His mind raced for an excuse, any excuse. “Um, yeah. Got a small cut on my leg earlier today,” he shrugged, “It’s really nothing. Wrapped it up, but maybe it’s still bleeding.” He shrugged again, but it was tense and unconvincing. Mrs. Harker continued to stare as if he were a fresh steak and she was starving.

“Yes, well do be more careful next time,” she murmured absently as she slowly backed away from him. “I really must go. I have… work to attend to, surely.” She excused herself and hurried out of the library, skirts rustling behind her.

Sawyer let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He quickly set down the book he had been leafing through and began the trek back to his own cabin. If that was going to happen every time he got his “curse” then he might as well just stay in his room a few days each month.


	3. Chapter 3

Someone knew. Tom wasn’t sure how they knew, but someone must have figured it out somehow.

He’d first suspected when the sheets arrived outside his door and kept showing up each morning. Fresh, dark colored sheets unlike the cream colored ones that had covered his bed before.

The next hint was the dish of chocolates. Then the warm towels, then the cramp-easing medications. All of it was suspicious and all of it stopped about a week later, right after he’d stopped bleeding. Tom wasn’t sure exactly how much the others must have known about him. He thought he’d been careful not to act too strangely. Besides, even with the blood on his sheets, how could anyone have known? He reasoned with himself, talked down his worries and convinced himself that no one knew. No one could have possibly known anything.

In the end it was the book that confirmed his suspicions.

Tom knew he hadn’t brought anything back from Nemo’s library for a while, certainly nothing this large and ornate. There were a few book marks sticking out from between the pages. It sat on his desk and stuck out like a sore thumb among the small pamphlets and bullet casings. Certain that there must have been some kind of mistake, he’d brought the tome back to the library without bothering to open it.

The next day he came in to find it there once again, now open to one of the bookmarked pages. He wasn’t sure who was messing with him (probably Skinner, the invisible man had made some comments about the importance of being well-read and had been teasing Tom about it ever since) but he didn’t appreciate it. He slammed the book closed and carted it off to the library again.

He was actually expecting it by the time it showed up again and while it was still annoying and the book looked far too stuffy and formal to be interesting to him he decided to see what this mysterious person believed was so important for him to read.

The particular story bookmarked followed the life of a young girl, Srikandi. She grew up to be a warrior, playing a vital part in the killing of an unkillable legend. And at one point in her life, she became a man. In the story this change was through magic, but it was obvious to Tom what his mysterious book club friend was telling him.

Someone knew.

Considering that he hadn’t been exposed to the entire crew and thrown off the submarine, Tom was pretty sure he could count whoever knew as a friend, but it was still mildly unsettling not to know who it was who had figured him out. He spent evening dinners eyeing his teammates, analyzing their behaviors to see if anything had changed. How were they treating him now? Who was treating him differently? He found nothing.

He spent more and more time on the shooting deck in the sun, aiming at targets and trying to take his mind off any worrying possibilities. The sun was hot and seared into his skin. It was nearly unbearable to be up on the deck, but that just meant Tom would be entirely alone.

“You shoot well.” Tom jumped as he heard the voice behind him, nearly setting off his rifle in surprise. A man with dark skin, close-cropped hair and a well-manicured moustache stood in front of the door. He wore the uniform that indicated he was one of Nemo’s crew (clearly, as Tom knew he was not a member of the league he must have been a part of Nemo’s crew) but Tom had rarely heard any of the crew members speaking English before. When they did talk it was usually in the language Nemo had created for use on the Nautilus.

“Uh, thanks,” Tom replied, not sure what to make of his new company. “I don’t suppose you wanna try this thing out? If you don’t know how I’d be more than happy to show you.”

The man shook his head. “A harpoon is my weapon of choice. And it generally sees more use out here than your gunpowder and fire.” He closed the door to the submarine. “How did you like the book I left you?”

Tom sputtered for a moment as his brain ran through a hundred different responses at once. “You?!”

The other man laughed. “I was on laundry duty for the guest section of the Nautilus last week. Were the chocolates helpful? The salve? I find if you apply it to your lower back at the first sign of cramps it makes everything a lot nicer.”

“Yeah, I reckon it helped a bit,” Tom eyed the man with a puzzled expression. “Are you…? I mean, if you use that stuff, are you like me?”

“In at least one way,” he smiled. “The story of Srikandi made me realize things about myself. It is one of the few pieces of my own culture I have kept with me in Nemo’s nation of the sea. I thought it would be useful in connecting to you.” He smoothed back his moustache and Tom idly wondered if it had been glued on or if he’d somehow grown it naturally. “I don’t know who you have told about yourself. You certainly do not need to. But you should know there are more of us on Nemo’s crew. He knows and has shown much support. I cannot speak for your western friends, but my captain will understand you, boy. You do not need to fear his reaction.”

Tom felt a wave of relief wash over him. Strangely enough, he hadn’t realized that he was tense. Nervousness had become his default and suddenly this stranger had come by out of the blue and wiped most of it away. “Thank you.” The man nodded and turned to leave. “Wait!” Tom called out and he hesitated, turning around to look back at the younger man. “I reckon it’d be polite to introduce myself. Even if it’s a bit unconventional at the end of the conversation. Tom Sawyer, ex-secret service.” He held out his hand to the older man who took it firm in his grasp.

“Navita, crewman on the Nautilus. Citizen of Capitain Nemo’s Nation of the Sea.” He shrugged, “It was not my given name, but it is the one I chose.”

Tom laughed. “Well sir, I gotta say I’ve been through more than my fair share of name changes, too. Will I see you around the ship?”

“If that is what you wish.” Tom nodded and Navita smiled. “I will see what I can do.”


End file.
